STG Investigative Report : Tetrimus Rakora
by LogicalPremise
Summary: An in-depth STG Analysis of the Dagger. Covers history, tactics, and abilities. Part of my Mass Effect AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _Timeframe on this is kinda wonky - let's say about the time Sheppy is waking up_

* * *

 **-STG – STG – STG-**

STG Report on the Dagger, Tetrimus Rakora

 _Master Data Litigator 00429-Zhau, to the ZEROPOINT and to the STG Master_

 _STG-Master-Being, your request for League-of-Zero interface/investigation into unit Rakora subunit Tetrimus-exile has been processed. Release authorization was approved by the ZEROPOINT via the SIX._

 _Reminder: Interface files cannot be stored on any non-volatile flash storage. In case of data violation all elements of this report will self-wipe and replace with a stock STG datafile._

 _Translation of data arbitrage provided by Master Field Agent Korals._

Report from Master Field Agent Korals:

I've never actually _seen_ a League report before, and even now I'm astonished to be working on this. As instructed, I've dispatched Senior Agents to verify what we can of this and combine it with our own information.

As the League reports are written in an excruciatingly obtuse style I have rewritten most of this report. Despite the unparalleled abilities of the League, I would still consider that this document, like any other STG report, cannot be all inclusive with details, but instead provides high-order information that can be queried in depth at a later time.

From what the League has determined about Tetrimus, he's possibly even more dangerous than we originally suspected, and he already has a Black-Collapse Nine danger rating. I understand that we only utilized the League's... specialists... after several attempts by our own teams failed utterly.

I'm putting this one's classification at Black-Nine with a Red-Flag-Tab alongside. I strongly recommend physically destroying the media and all copies once you have completed whatever it is you requested this report for.

 **Caution : Read FIRST:**

From what the League puts into the report, the bulk of information gathered was from deep penetration hacks, nanite-built bug surveillance, self-replicating nanite monitors (?!) and 'penetrated-mental assets' , which is not exactly clear.

We've augmented this with what media reports, police reports, eye-witness accounts, and partial scans that we have on file. We also took the liberty of retrieving his military records from the turian Ministry of Deeds.

Without a doubt, Tetrimus is the single most lethal combatant in the known galaxy at this time. While a very few powerful and lucky individuals have survived combat with him, no one – ever – has beaten him or even managed to drive him off. He has slaughtered Spectres, Praetors, biotic specialists, war priestesses, special forces units by the score, and the Wheel only knows what else.

Tetrimus is a biotic of simply staggering skill, with power and biotic reserves that would not be out of place on a millennium-old war priestess, combined with brutal special forces combat knowledge and lethal skills in combat engineering, hacking, poisons, and more.

* * *

 **-STG – STG – STG-**

* * *

 **TETRIMUS RAKORA, THE MOUTH OF THE BROKER**

 **Overview:**

 _Formal Titles_ : Mouth of the Shadow Broker. Formerly Primarch's Fist, formerly Master Evoker of the High Cabal of Palaven.

 _Nicknames_ : The Dagger, the Nightmare in the Dark

 _Race_ : Turian (suspected partial or even full conversion borg, uncertain)

 _Age and sex_ : 87, male. Two children, deceased.

 _Wealth:_ According to the League, Tetrimus has over seven hundred million credits spread across a dozen accounts and front companies, as well as unknown amounts of hard specie (gold, eezo, diamonds) stashed on dead worlds or distant asteroids.

He is also surely well in command of the resources of the Broker Network, which is guesstimated at upwards of sixty billion credits.

 _Psychological Summary_ : Based on the information from the League, Tetrimus falls on the extreme edges of the Cruel/Disdainful quadrant of Villainous personalities, a very rare result and one that even Tetrimus pushes to the edges of nearly falling into the pure Malevolent personality quadrants.

Tetrimus _despises_ life, and hates almost everything. He is particularly hateful of turian honor concepts and the meritocracy, but anything approximating valor, courage, mercy or especially altruism amuses and enrages him at the same time. Tetrimus' psyche is highly fragile and he constantly seeks reinforcing values, ideas and outcomes to justify what he has had done to him – and what he has turned himself into.

Tetrimus, if the League is correct, literally cannot _feel_ or possibly even understand fear or mercy. Fragmented scanner readings indicate he's done something to his brain, with possible cybernetic or nanonic implants clearly visible.

 _Military Summary_ : Taken in by the cabals at age 19, graduated as a strike cabalist at 24. Crushed an entire separatist spy ring at 26, stopped assassination attempt on the Primarch at 27, and assisted Spectre Venn Takarsin in the Elevorr Incident at 28. Was promoted to High Evoker (at 28, the youngest ever) and was handpicked to lead the Primarch's Fist strike force at 30.

Spent over twenty years as commander of the Fist, promoted to Master Evoker at 34 when he stopped turian extremists associated with Facinus. Worked closely with Aethyta Vasir on an assassination of clanless asari leader working closely with Facinus, and took part in the Small Succession War at age 40.

When the Relay 314 incident hit, the Primarch's Fist was assigned to take out General Williams on Shanxi in the initial invasion. It appears his unit was setup to fail in that attempt, although there is still no clear indication of why the Primarch would allow his most powerful cabal to be captured. The League's best information suggest the Primarch was planning to claim the Fist had been sent down as a diplomatic team and was ambushed to head off possible interference from the asari.

What is known is that Tetrimus was very nearly killed, and his entire team was killed. How he managed to escape is still a mystery, but the League's data indicates its almost certain that Broker elements embedded in the Turian assault forces got him out of the system and into medical care.

 _Education:_ Standard turian education until 18. Military recruit training prior to entering the cabals, then standard cabal training. Graduated University of Palaven with degree in chemical engineering and studied at the Salarian Institute of the Mind with a focus on biotic force shaping.

 _Employment_ : Currently, is the public face of the Shadow Broker. (Some believe he is the Broker, but that is not likely).

 _Significant Family_ : All living relatives except his brother are dead, most executed by the Primarch after the Relay 314 incident.

 _Overall Threat Rating:_ Black-Collapse Nine.

* * *

 **Historical Notes:**

Tetrimus vanished from sight (and indeed was thought to be dead) for almost three and a half years after the battle of Shanxi. The murder of the former Primarch's sons in 2159 and the brutal assassination of sixteen of his clan members was almost certainly his work, and several other incidents around that time are also likely his work.

However, he only publicly emerged in late 2160, where he engaged the asari criminal Waveloss, who had refused to work with the Broker. Tetrimus destroyed four armored vehicles and tore open a forty foot wide hole into the reinforced bunker HQ of Waveloss, slaughtering over fifty of her guards and agents before engaging the matriarch in an insultingly short fight that ended with her torn apart by his Beam biotic strike.

Over the next decade, Tetrimus was highly visible as the premier strike agent of the Broker, but also as his liaison to various parties (including his message to the SIX in 2175 and to the Council). He demonstrated his sheer power in 2170, where he clashed with Matriarch Benezia T'Soni in a battle over a valuable Prothean artifact, actually driving her off and claiming victory, and utterly crushing the force of Nightwind operatives sent after him.

Tetrimus was partnered with the so-called Left Hand of the Broker, the equally terrifying Tazzik, and both were deployed in 2178 to crush the Vanden Pirate Cartel that had broken away from the Broker's influence to work for Aria.

It was the strike on Vanden that deeply alarmed almost everyone with his biotic strength, including feats such as taking down gunships on foot with biotics and tearing apart most of a major metropolitan area in his battle with "General" Gar, the krogan commander. After this battle – which was widely vidcast from spycams inside the Vanden spaceport – almost no one was fool enough to fight Tetrimus directly.

His actions during the Benezia Incident were sketchy – he definitely took part in some aspects of the effort to identify Saren and Benezia as the primary actors, and rumors place him at a fight on the Citadel alongside Shepard. According to testimony from several sources he was on Omega during the Burning, and engaged with a strike-team of several of Shepard's old team mates as well as Aethyta Vasir and several Remembrance Dancers, killing or incapacitating them all.

* * *

 **Motivations:**

Extremely difficult to determine.

Tetrimus is a hateful being who has turned his back on almost every aspect of turian society and culture, and is described by those who know him as deeply cynical, skeptical and in some ways angry at society itself. Ascribing motives to him is something the League is amusingly bad at, since their grasp of emotional context is... theoretical at best.

Based on the data we do have, our best determination would be that Tetrimus wants revenge – on humans for his injuries, on turians for leaving him to die, on asari for saving humanity from being destroyed, and perhaps even against literally everything. He does not care much for money or power (despite having large amounts of both), has never been known in the past thirty years to have any kind of sexual or romantic interactions, and actively enjoys killing artists, musicians and other creatives to amuse himself.

* * *

 **Organizations and Affiliations:**

His only known affiliation is with the Broker Network.

* * *

 **Tactics:**

 _Strongly recommend reading this section multiple times before even planning to engage Tetrimus in combat._

Tetrimus is an extremely powerful biotic combatant. On top of that, he was a master marksman and skilled combat engineer, trained heavily by the best turian instructors, and has decades of special forces and deep strike experience. On top of _that_ the League is convinced that he is at the very least a partial conversion cyborg, with heavy indications he may be fully converted at above sixty five percent.

His demonstrated abilities – blindingly fast speed, perfect cloaking, barriers that can deflect even point-blank heavy missile and railgun fire, exquisite marksmanship and clearly unnatural strength – is only made worse by his wide array of biotic abilities.

Tetrimus is usually lightly armed, with a re-chambered acceleration heavy repeater pistol of unknown manufacture. This weapon has a revolving heat-sink chamber and a four mm bore, which is gigantic for a pistol. The weapon can fire extremely rapidly and Tetrimus often employs advanced phasic/explosive rounds with an acidic or corrosive effect. This agent is also highly toxic and can kill in under a minute.

Tetrimus wears a voluminous black robe, which obscures any body armor or cybernetic plating he may have, but given the fact that he has walked off even shotgun blasts its very likely he is heavily armored. What cyberware he may have is unknown, but at the very least he has a cybernetic rangefinder, some form of thermal cloaking, and most likely some of pulse disruption nullifier.

 _Specific Tactical Methods, Ground Combat:_

Long range: Tetrimus has a noted preference for long range combat, as it allows him to maximize his combat abilities. He typically prefers to enter combat from stealth (using his cloaking device and own skills) and to strike from heavy cover, using long range biotics. He will usually open with his Beam attack, which is an instant kill on anything it hits, doing heavy damage to those nearby. From there he will engage in the use of flares and disrupt, mixed in with the use of throw to hurl heavy objects.

Those attempting to close range will be met with omni-mines and drones, along with heavy blasts of warp-fire. Tetrimus is very adept at the sword kanquess and will freely use it to re-position himself if needed, but tends to move back into cloaking and strike from another angle.

Penetrating such a barrage of attacks to reach medium range may be pointless, as he is very likely to drop back into long range as soon as he can.

Medium range: If corralled or otherwise constrained into medium range, his Beam power is unlikely to work – it takes time to target and use, and at medium ranges the intensity of the biotics required can make 'ripples' in his cloaking and reveal him to a target.

As such, he will focus more in direct biotic attacks, use of traps and drones to delay and sandbag foes, and switch to the batarian crush power to immobilize enemies. Once immobilized he will usually drop warpfire on them before using a second biotic attack to cause biotic explosions.

As with long range, Tetrimus will attempt to force attackers back rather than allow them to close range, and almost never closes range himself.

Short range: In the extremely unlikely event Tetrimus is forced to close to short range, his immediate reaction is to perform head-shots from his pistol, flares at point blank range, and grenades (particularly radiological grenades or other toxins). Tetrimus will employ speed and distraction tactics, before closing in to kill targets either with a direct application of warp fire to the chest or face, or using lift and throw to knock targets back or off of ledges / pits etc.

Tetrimus does not, based on League information, like fighting at short ranges. However, that should NOT be mistaken as a weakness or inability to do so – given his strength and speed an attack at short range is extremely likely to result instead in the attacker's death. Tetrimus has shown an ability to channel biotic energy, somewhat like a barrier field, along the length of his claw dagger, which allows him to block and parry asari warp sword attacks.

Likewise, Tetrimus has a powerful set of overload and EMP attacks for close-range attacks by heavy mechs or battle-suits.

Warning Advisory: Every STG file on extremely dangerous combatants attempts to point out the lethality of the subject. In many cases, Agents have ignored this advice, despite the fact that only the most dangerous of enemies would be _given_ a stand-alone file.

The killing power of Tetrimus is enough that the warning bears repeating. Tetrimus is NOT beatable by a standard STG team, regardless of strategy and tactics. Nineteen teams – over a hundred and sixty of our best agents – bear witness to this fact.

Tetrimus routinely engages and kills the most powerful known combatants. He has killed Remembrance Dancers in melee combat, he has out-powered asari war priestesses in biotics, he has taken out Deathwatch and Blackwatch teams by the score. The best assault methods to use against him would be wide-scale attacks – tactical nuclear devices, orbital bombardment (preferably with antimatter torpedoes) and dropping large amounts of debris (several buildings should do the trick).

* * *

 **Physical Abilities:**

Tetrimus uses a cane and seemingly walks slowly and with a limp. However in combat he moves powerfully and swiftly – the League believes his persona of a frail physical form is a complete lie.

His speed is very fast even for an augmented being, and his reflexes are excellent. He has demonstrated anomalous strength in short bursts, and has not ever been seen to tire or show fatigue of any kind.

Tetrimus's face and presumably body show scars – deep burn marks, melted plates, and a damaged mandible. Given his wealth and access, these could have been healed decades ago, and its clear they are left in place on purpose. Despite this, do not assume his damaged areas are any more vulnerable.

His cybernetic eye can apparently (per League information) seen in both infrared and UV, and possibly other more exotic spectra. The rangefinder may be linked to some kind of weapons link system, as his capabilities with his pistol are legendary.

* * *

 **Mental and Psychological Notes:**

Prior to the events at Shanxi, his intelligence was measured as 58 out of 70 on the turian scale, or high average. Tetrimus has employed large teams of specialists in the past to perform analysis and research information for him – he appears to be an excellent 'high order' analyst and information broker but has little patience for small details.

Psychologically, he's a psychopath, whose only response to almost everything is either treachery or violence. Why he obeys the Broker is implied by the League to be a matter of logic rather than respect – its possible Tetrimus does not feel he can defeat the Broker in combat (which raises frightening questions about what exactly the Broker _is_ if even Tetrimus will not fight him!)

Based on our own analysis, Tetrimus sees his goals and ideals as the only possible outcome and responds violently to any challenge to his beliefs or supremacy. While he can be fairly charming and capable of negotiations, he rarely indulges in such unless faced with vastly superior force.

His psyche is likely fragile, both due to trauma and the fact that he is sunk so deeply into the shadow world of the Broker – direct psychological attack is probably more likely to succeed than direct combat.

* * *

 **Notable Allies:**

Aside from the Broker, Tetrimus has worked in the past with several other professional assassins, such as Aethyta Vasir, Shift, and the like – some of them he even considers possible useful allies (although not friends.)

 **Political and Social Notes:**

Tetrimus has not played an active role in politics in the Turian Hierarchy in over thirty years, but the vastness of his 'crimes' and the fact that the Primarch's Circle blame him for several deaths means he is certainly of political interest to the Hierarchy.

Tetrimus himself rarely stated his political beliefs in the past, but has tendencies towards racism. He disdains most batarians and finds humans distasteful at best, even if useful.

* * *

 **-STG – STG – STG-**

 **Warnings:**

The following advisories are considered mandatory reading.

 **Combat of any kind is not recommended.**

I cannot think of a _single_ reason why any STG team would ever be deployed against this murderous lunatic again, but it cannot be stated strongly enough that encounters with him not planned out in advance is an excellent way to be brutally murdered.

 ** **Heavy anti-biotic equipment, confined spaces, and dedicated sniper teams are recommendations if forced into combat:****

Alongside the above, high-power explosives would also help.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** _This happened about five months after Shep's death  
_

* * *

Lahar fingered the scope setting on his sniper, yawning.

 _So far, so good._

Station Six was a dead-end abandoned spaceport on Metriuus, a moon of the defunct HE3 mining colony of Valen. It clung to life as a warehouse and shipping port for down on their luck merchants and as a base for the krogan and batarian rockjacks working antimony and iridium deposits on Casaya, the second planet of the system.

Technically it was a part of the Turian Hierarchy. But their patrol ships didn't bother with the system very much, as it was way out on the edge and there had never been any separatist activity. That made it perfect for trades that were less than legal.

" _Looks good, Kurass... didn't think you'd come through._ " The voice of the boss lady, Emisa, cut into his thoughts. Lahar didn't know why a fancy daughter of some Lesser House of the asari ran a crime syndicate, but she paid well and was very easy on the eyes.

He glanced around again from his perch, looking for trouble and finding nothing. The boss lady had warned him to expect trouble – the Broker had been cut out of the deals she was making with the Shifter, Edat Kurass. Still, between her own guards – at least fifteen tough krogan – and the nice-dressed and twitchy looking salarian goons of the Shifter, Lahar didn't think the Broker could do much to them.

He pulled out a ri-stalk and lit it, inhaling slowly. Down below, the boss lady had brought out the eezo and the guns, and Edat's lieutenant was confirming the amounts with the Shifter via his vidcall. Since the money had already gone through, all that remained was making sure the Shifter was satisfied and getting the crates of red sand loaded back onto the transport.

Lahar glanced away for a second, as something flickered in the corner of his vision. He saw nothing, and as he turned back to the site of the deal, cursed. A blast of white light erupted in the middle of the group, Emisa screaming for a split second as it struck her.

Then she just exploded, shockwaves hurling crates aside and sending her nearest guards staggering back.

Lahar lifted his scope, trying to find a target. A flash of blue warpfire erupted over the Shifter's cybered-up lieutenant, turning him into a jiggling burning pyre that thrashed around in agony before a powerful biotic push sent him flying through the air. He struck the side of the transport hard enough to dent it and came apart in a rain of burning body parts and cybernetic limbs.

From the darkness between two warehouses, a single glowing red cybernetic eye lit up, and then a figure walked forward. Slowly. Heavy black boots making a faint, hard click on the worn concrete. A heavy black cane tapping against it.

Lahar let his sniper rifle fall, swallowing. The Dagger had come.

Tetrimus gazed at the twenty plus figures standing around the disordered site of the deal, and in the depths of his hood a mandible flickered. "Someone didn't have very good hearing, to go forward with this."

The main bodyguard of the boss lady got slowly to his feet, bulbous red eyes glaring as he racked his shotgun and glanced around at his fellow krogan. "You're going to _pay_ for that, bird. We're going to pull you apart real slow and cook you like a jijgana."

Tetrimus shook his head. "A surfeit of idiots notwithstanding, I do wonder how you managed to live this long, krogan. But come, entertain me."

The krogan charged as one, and Tetrimus lifted his hand.

That's when the horror started.

The first two krogan caught a blade of force across the legs, sending them both falling to the ground in agony, even as their companions sidestepped or jumped over them. The leader was first, firing his shotgun several times. The blasts ricocheted harmlessly off the barrier of the old turian, who twisted his hands in a certain pattern.

The krogan leader's shotgun was jerked out of his hands, flying over Tetrimus's shoulder to clatter loudly behind him. Tetrimus stepped forward smoothly, tucking himself under the thundering punch the krogan threw to swipe at his chest with talons suddenly alight with warpfire. Another gesture and five more krogan were engulfed in whirling mess of biotic blades, churning charging warriors into a froth of flying bits of flesh and screams of agony.

The krogan staggered back, howling in agony as his right lung collapsed. Tetrimus paused to fling a throw at the next charging krogan, sending him smashing into the three behind him. A quick burst of warp fire to the assembly of the rusted crane above them and a pull, and hundreds of pounds of iron fell on top of them, breaking bones and piercing and crushing flesh.

Edat's people were scattering but a few opened fire on Tetrimus. As with the krogan the shots simply bounced off his barrier. He waved a hand at them negligently, tossing a throw that sent them flying a good twenty feet back. Several landed badly, one crushing his own skull as he landed head first, several others suffering broken legs. They didn't even have time to scream before a second shove of biotic force toppled the transport on top of them, sending blood spraying out in several arcs.

Three more krogan pushed past the disabled leader, each with kinetic hammers. Tetrimus stepped under one wild swing, vanishing in a burst of electricity, and the krogan swung around, putting themselves back to back. A second later a flare exploded in their midst. Biotic flames stormed into the sky, and krogan staggered away engulfed, feebly swatting at themselves before crumpling to the ground as piles of burning flesh and cooked, blackened armor.

Lahar helplessly tried to lock up Tetrimus in his scope, as the turian decimated the survivors. Weapons were torn away from the grips of their owners and warpfire shoved down throats to explode out of eye-sockets. A full burst from a Revenant elicited a whispery chuckle and a hurled chunk of concrete going fast enough to liquefy the victim's torso.

Some of the Shifter's people ran, only to be gutted by blades of force, or crippled by blasts of biotic energy in shapes and types Lahar didn't even recognize. Finally, though, the bastard made a mistake, lingering too long over literally burning a krogan alive with warpfire.

Lahar sighted in with an explosive anti-tank round, and fired his sniper rifle. The shot blasted past the turian's barrier and struck him dead in the chest, making him stagger. Lahar fired again, catching the figure in the arm.

As he racked the slide for his third shot, the building detonated below him. He screamed as he fell over fifty feet to the ruins and debris below, his rifle bending as it broke his landing – and his arm. A piece of rebar pierced his side, another one sliced into his ankle, trapping him in a pool of blood.

Slow, heavy footsteps, accompanied by the tapping of a cane, were the last things he heard before Tetrimus spoke.

"Not enough gun."

* * *

 **\- STG - STG - STG -**

* * *

"You have resolved the issue?" The Broker's voice was almost agitated, and Tetrimus nodded to himself as he took off his robes in the privacy of his pinnace.

"I have. The materials are on my pinnace, I am returning to base now. Both Edat's people and Lady Emisa Vabo'sa have been dealt with. I left the vidlink to the Shifter open, so you may be expecting an unhappy frog to call you soon."

The Broker's voice, as usual, had no levity in it. "It would have been more efficient to ensure he did not know what happened to his people."

Tetrimus examined the damage to his chest, then pulled out a repair kit from the cabinet to one side of the pilots chair. "Perhaps. But the message would not have been as effective. Those were supposedly his best men. I dispatched them like the mewling children they were, and he knows who did it and why."

The red cybernetic eye whirled. "I have issues with dealing out punishment to people without context, you see."

The Broker was silent for several seconds. "I will be awaiting your report. Broker out."

Tetrimus laughed softly. He knew the yahg was frustrated with him – he thought a campaign of mysterious 'incidents' would break Edat Kurass's nerve. Tetrimus knew better. That old salarian bastard wasn't going to be forced to break off deals with Aria and her clique until the price was very high and very personal.

The Broker was too much in love with the concept of blind fear. While that certainly had its place, putting a face to the fear – making it take concrete shape and form – was in Tetrimus' opinion far more useful. It had been the guiding instinct behind the melodramatic operations of the Primarch's Fist, and while he hated everything from his own past, he wouldn't ignore the valuable things he'd learned from his old life.

He exhaled slowly as his anger spiked, focusing on repairing the hairline crack in his armor with a repair epoxy paste. It smelled like wet iron in the tight confines of the pinnace, reminding him of better days in the foothills of Palaven, studying the wisdom of the cabals in the old, tight warrens of the Valley of Darkness.

His mandible flicked in amused remembrance. All of his old cabal mates save one were dead now, either used up and discarded by the Hierarchy or executed by the coward of a Primarch who'd betrayed him for political gains.

No, if his past had taught him any lessons, they were simple. Fear was better than mere caution. Terror was the only currency people understood. Mercy and kindness, honor and valor – these were words for those who let themselves be abused and lied to in the name of patriotism, or the ever-infuriating 'needs of the many'.

When did the many sacrifice for the few, he once wondered. Now he understood the truth – the many always sacrificed for the few, the few that lead and controlled the destiny of races. He'd been of the many, and now he was of the few.

And the few had no use for subtlety. For all of Tazzik's many faults, he at least grasped that instinctively, unlike the Broker. It was all very well and good to be shadowy and mysterious, but sometimes sheer blood and fire was needed to make a point.

Cross the Broker, pay with your life. Deal without the Broker, lose the deal. Attempt to poach on the Broker's stated interests, watch your family die slowly. People got that kind of message, even the thick-headed lugs that styled themselves as 'warlords'.

In the end, he knew, it didn't matter. Death came to everyone. But he certainly enjoyed helping it along.

As he waited for the repair epoxy to set, he tapped in a few commands and spoke. "VI, set course for Solmarlon, maximum rated speed."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** _This is how it all got started._

* * *

 _"Landing LZ is hot, make ready, talon brothers."_ The voice of the dropship pilot was almost garbled with nervous sub-harmonics, the ship vibrating with the GTS fire from the human city below.

The five armored figures within the ship were all carefully checking weapons, examining armor, and putting on helmets. Their armor was heavy, angular, black, decorated with bright white paint in the symbols of the Turian Hierarchy, but over their right chest was a golden turian sigil, the mark of the Primarch.

On their helmets, in red paint, was a turian fist limned in an aura. Red runes beneath it spelled out the words 'PRIMARCH'S FIST.'

The largest of the figures was a giant, a full head taller than his companions, even seated. His hands carefully checked the fittings on his battle armor, his mandibles clicking in satisfied pleasure. "Everyone, check your amps, we have no margin of error on this operation. Turian High Command says that we have some monkey willing to sell us the location of the human Commander in return for concessions once we conquer the planet. This mess of a pacification has gone on too long, and we stop it now."

The turian to his left flicked his mandibles. "And the exact mission?"

Tetrimus smiled. "We get in, find this General Williams, strike hard, kill him and his command staff, and get out. Drop a locator beacon on the way out and the fleet bombards the command center once we're clear."

The other four nod solemnly, finishing their pre-battle checks, examining rifles, checking spare grenades and sidearms. Tetrimus checked his own weapon, slotting in a new ammo block and making sure the heatsink was clean and free of debris before compacting the weapon and clipping it to his back. He ran a nervous hand over his fringe as the dropship began its final descent.

"Havoc packs, power up. Santar, once we're down, put up a barrier north, Valkin, west, Cortha, east, Trann, south. We'll recon and move north once we're secure."

Again, the heads nodded, and one of them spoke. "Got it, Tetrimus. Any idea of the resistance we'll be facing?"

Tetrimus shook his head. "Scattered recon reports of snipers, little else is for certain. The human traitor says the command center isn't heavily defended to avoid drawing attention to it, but there are ground defenses." He paused, thinking. "Orbital recon shows GTS systems – if those are any indicator, then the area they cover could be holding as much as a battalion on the ground. The 45th and 46th Heavy Assault are moving in from the south to draw defenders away, so we should have a straight run, Valkin."

Cortha grunted. "Worst-case, a spirits-be-damned nightmare. Best-case? Fifteen or twenty soldiers on the ground in the building itself. Let's hope for the best and if it goes bad, they'll learn to fear the Fist."

Valkin rolled his shoulders and slammed his helmet onto his head. "For Palaven, then." Even as he spoke, the dropship lurched alarmingly, a heavy blast of fire sending the turians inside reeling.

The pilot's voice was half-panicked. _"We've taken a hit on the port engine. It won't land safely. Jump now, I'll… draw their fire."_ A pause, and his voice hardened. _"Victory, at any cost."_

Tetrimus exhaled and nodded. "Die for the cause, talon brother."

Without further words, he kicked the hatch open, triggering the jump-pack on his back as he leapt from the side of the craft, falling freely. The vista below him was terrifying; the alien contours of the human city, all angular and almost robotic, were framed in the hell-light of weapons fire.

Human battle vehicles roared forward north of him to meet the charging advance of turian soldiers, rockets and accelerator fire lancing back-and-forth in sprays of blinding blue and silver. The dropship was spraying chaff and ECM drones in all directions to cover them even as it accelerated away, trailing flames and smoke.

He glanced up, relieved to see the rest of his unit following him, and a moment later was blinded by the flash of an explosion, their dropship being struck in multiple places by GTS fire before coming apart in a tumbling shower of debris.

Tetrimus spared a moment to pray for the spirit of their pilot, closing his eyes. He then focused his attention down, triggering the havoc control rockets in the armor to slow his fall, augmenting that with a biotic field to lighten his mass and cushion the impact of touchdown.

He came down in a roll, snapping to a kneeling stance, even as the rest of his cabal landed. Movement on the perimeter drew his sharp vision, and without hesitation he lashed out with pure biotic force, a lance of sheer mass smashing into the running target. The human staggered and was slammed from their feet to the ground, blood spurting from their smashed chest amid a tangle of protruding bones.

The other turians were putting up barriers now, making a protective shell, and Tetrimus consulted his omni-tool's map. The human command center was very near, and the attack on the city seemed to have drawn off any adversaries. With a hand motion, he moved, the cabal following, armored fists alight with biotic power.

They moved from the open field they landed in to the shadow of human buildings, all blocky and done in sterile stainless steel, covered in bizarre images. Plants were carefully arranged near entrances, and a few ground cars were parked nearby.

A pair of dead humans lie slumped against the building, both looking emaciated and drawn. One was dead by his own hand, the pistol limp in his grip, the other human appeared to have expired from several shots to the torso. Tetrimus ignored them, scanning the rough dirt path that passed for a street, and the cabal moved on.

A side street opened up, and the team moved close together, keeping low. A human soldier, clad only in BDUs, perhaps off-duty, stepped out into the open. His rifle he leaned against the nearby wall, closing his eyes as he listened to reports of the fighting on his omni-tool. Tetrimus made a motion to Valkin, who performed a biotic charge. The heavy bulk of the turian slammed into the soldier, sending him to the ground, and Valkin pounced down, his talon knife slashing the man's throat open.

Strange, red, alien fluid sprayed messily, and the man was still. Valkin absently wiped his knife on the man's uniform. The cabal checked in all directions, and began moving again, the sound of their passing nearly silent.

For a few minutes, all was calm, moving carefully from cover to cover. The sound of the firefight in the distance grew louder, more intense. Tetrimus glanced around, and the squad broke cover to move down a properly paved street. The city loomed over them, boxy buildings and colony modules stacked almost haphazardly, casting increasingly long shadows as the sun begins to set.

Rounding the edge of a large building with wide-set windows, Cortha froze. "Motion, north as the shanthra flies."

He pointed off to the right, where several human armored vehicles were parked, and a small number of men in armor milled about. Tetrimus pulled up the magnification HUD on his armor, peering in that direction.

It took him long seconds to translate the curvy human script and understand its meaning. "That's it. That's their command center. Get ready."

The five turians checked their weapons again, bringing full power to their kinetic shields. Valkin adjusted the sash of grenades, and Santar clipped on a shredder mod to the powerful submachine gun he carried in addition to the Lanistron rifle on his back. Trann unrolled a small shoulder sash, marked with the colony insignia of his dead wife, draping it around the curve of his armor's neck.

Tetrimus inhaled deeply, and nodded. "For Palaven, and the end to this ridiculous conflict."

The five erupted from cover, firing as they go. Humans jerked around in shock, but even as they did so, shockwaves from Valkin and Cortha burst forth, hurling them back bonelessly to slam against the walls of the nearby building. Two more humans moved up, firing light rifles, but Santar was prepared, his barrier deflecting their shots harmlessly before he angled it horizontally. The field pushed outwards, a razor-sharp blade bisecting the two humans a second later, their bodies collapsing to the ground.

Tetrimus skidded and leapt over a low wall, summoning his energies. He focused, biotic energies lifting three humans with weapons from their feet helplessly, then warped the field with a motion of his hand. Biotic light flashed, white on blue, and the field detonated, tearing the warriors apart in a wave of blood and body parts. As he turned away, Trann threw a heavy warp, catching a human dead-on. The human's armor literally unraveled as he screamed in agony, flesh sloughing from his face and bones shattering under the biotic power, before slumping to the ground in a puddle of red blood.

The turians were past the sentries now, and there were sounds of running feet. More humans in blue and white armor stormed out of the building, rifles raised, and Tetrimus coiled biotic energy around his fist. His signature biotic power was called the 'Spear,' and he demonstrated it now, radiant blue lines of shining force lancing out to slam into several humans.

Two of them were hit directly, and the lines detonated into warp explosions and cascades of shockwaves, sending biotic power scattering in all directions like an out of control tidal wave. Men flew through the air, screaming, or were hurled to the ground and walls with broken, shattered limbs. Cortha fired repeatedly, aiming to wound and slow, and for each target he hit, Trann followed up with vicious, targeted biotic throws, pushing humans into other humans, tangling them.

Santar calmly tossed a grenade into an open door, and half turned to fire his SMG at point-blank range into two soldiers coming through it. The rounds tore into the men, sending them stumbling back, just as the grenade went off, hurling them back through the doorway, smoldering. One was dead, the other stirred slightly until Santar coldly slammed the sharpened heel of his battle armor's boot through the human's faceplate.

With a grunt of effort, Valkin wrapped his biotics around a nearby pallet of heavy looking boxes, sending them soaring into the group of soldiers trying to form a defense near the building's entrance. The crates, all sharp and metallic, slammed into the men, knocking some down, scattering their formation. Cortha and Tetrimus erupted into blue light and biotically charged forward, Tetrimus impacting with a human with enough force to cause the man to fly apart, gore flying in all directions. Cortha's target was hurled to the ground, only for Cortha to let go with a full burst from the battle rifle in his hands right in the man's chest.

Santar killed two more human soldiers, both with a single singularity and some gun play, while Trann blocked a kick from a human female, counterstriking with a punch to her unarmored throat that sent her to the ground choking and turning red.

Tetrimus motioned with his hand to the open door. "Santar, guard our exit.

The other turian nodded, unclasping the sniper rifle from his back and dropping into a crouch. The others went into the building itself, its corridors just as angular and bare as the outside. Tetrimus peered about, then motioned the group forward, down the main hallway. They advanced swiftly, weapons ready, and came to the end of the hallway, which terminated in massive steel doors shut fast.

Cortha sniffed. "Locked, probably. I got it, stand back."

He dropped into a focus pose, building his biotic energy and anchoring himself, and then opened his hands almost delicately. A bright arc of biotic energy pushed outwards like a slow-moving bubble, unsteadily rolling along until it hit the door, and then it burst into a flash of light and booming sound. The shriek of tortured metal was combined with panicked screams from within the room as the doors flew back, one slamming into a pair of humans and reducing them to spatters under its bulk.

The team rushed in, each cabalist hurling shockwaves to suppress return fire. Biotic waves raced through the room, slamming humans aside or against consoles, shattering limbs and knocking weapons askew. Nine humans were in the room, gathered around a comm-link table, four of whom were down and unmoving. None of them were armored, and only a few had weapons.

Cortha and Trann were already in motion, quick shots to the head to kill the survivors of the combined shockwaves, while Valkin headed to the computer station on the wall, activating his omni-tool.

Tetrimus quickly scanned the faces and his mandibles flickered under his helmet. None of these humans was General Williams. Even as he realized this, the comm-link table flickered, and a blue hologram materializes on its surface. _"So, looks like our little trap worked, eh, skullface?"_

Tetrimus's eyes widened in horror, as there is a massive explosion outside the building, and a single pained turian scream cut off suddenly. The man in the hologram smiles coldly. _"We figured we had a goddamned traitor in our ranks somewhere, some slime who valued alien money over his or her damned species, and it looks like we were right. Looks like there's one in your ranks too."_

Tetrimus hurled a spear of warpfire at the console, shattering it, and brought his barrier up as tight as he can. "Valkin, drop a drone pack, Trann, Cortha, shearing left and right – we have to get clear."

Sounds of pounding footfalls outside echoed through the room, and the four turians gather themselves. Valkin tapped commands rapidly into his omni-tool and deposited a small package from his belt onto the floor. "Ready."

Tetrimus nodded, and flung his Power at the door, but even as he did, he heard a beeping noise. He barely has time to realize that the locator beacon to indicate the team was clear and to trigger the orbital bombardment has been activated remotely before panic seizes him.

"MOVE! GET OUT!"

He had no more time to speak, as there was light, and then, the unmistakable sound of kinetic impactors, and a hard blast of pain.

 **O-O-O**

Tetrimus awoke to pain. His body ached in many places, and in others – his legs, his arms – he felt nothing. He tried to move or open his eyes, but his muscles did not obey.

His breath catches as he inhales – the muted scent of burned flesh, the crisp, lightning-ozone taint of medical nanites, the hint of corrupted and rotted flesh, and something else he couldn't pin down.

A second later, a rumbling voice echoed in the room, deep and basso. _"Good. You survived. Undo the constrictor field."_

There was a tingling sensation across his chest and lower body, and his muscles spasmed in pain before relaxing. He coughed several times before finding his voice, which came out strained. "Where… am I?"

He could not feel his left mandible. Or open his eyes.

The voice was somehow both threatening and reassuring. _"You are on a human vessel. My asset in the Hierarchy managed to get you aboard after the turian fleet opened fire on your locator beacon. The Primarch has claimed your team's failure was due to you betraying the turian people."_

Tetrimus's mind could not accept the words. He knew what they meant, but together they made no sense. "Why… the entire landing was a trap, baited by humans…?"

The voice gives a rumbling chuckle. _"Indeed. The Primarch needed a reason to bring out a larger pacification force. And, of course, a reason to curb the influence of the cabalists, since your Primarchs Fist cabal had shamed his own elites in suppressing the humans and destroying their attempts at resistance. Your father's political machinations to back Fedorian were the final straw."_

A long pause, then the voice speaks again. _"Your entire family has been killed with the exception of one of your cousins already in the cabals. Your children were executed by the thasvar and hung from the heels as a mark of shame."_

Horror and agony and confusion raced through his mind, as his body struggled and twitched. With a grimace of pain, he forced himself upwards, and one eye opened.

He was in a tiny medical room, packed with turian medical equipment. A pair of medical mechs stood to either side of the bed he was in, working steadily at attaching a cybernetic leg to the ruins of his body. Directly across from him was a single haptic viewscreen, showing nothing but a hulking outline of a being cast in shadow.

The image flickered as the being raised a massive hand. _"You were left for dead. Your team is all dead. Your legs were blown off, your arms and body burned, and the left side of your face is a ruin. If not for my intervention, you would have died, Tetrimus Rakora."_

"…Why save me…? I am nothing now. My family… my boys… my mate!" His voice rose into a snarl. "WHY SAVE ME?!"

The rumbling voice sounded almost gleeful. _"Because it is within my power to grant that which you need. Revenge. Revenge against a Primarch who has gotten many of your race killed over a simple mistake, who has used your family as a playing piece, who has spat on the honor and duty you gave your entire life over to. What has the Hierarchy done to deserve your service?"_

The voice deepened. _"They have enslaved you. They enslaved your mate, trapped your young sons to a fate of third-class citizens, and now, murdered everyone you love. They have gotten your cabal killed over petty political intrigue, and the sad fact is that if your Primarch is not stopped, your race will be destroyed when they overreach themselves."_

Tetrimus slumped back, streaks of pain shooting up his body as the mechs cut away something. A cold feeling suffused his right side, like metal flowing through his body. "Who… are you…?"

The figure's head-shape rose. _"I am the Shadow Broker. I need a figure of terror and fear, a Hand to go where I cannot. You are the most skilled biotic the turians have ever created, and their fear of your power, their fear of your father's influence, their fear of losing face for their own mistakes, has taken everything from you._

 _"They required you to suffer, to be enslaved. To trap yourself in the wrappings of duty and honor and valor – of which you were never rewarded the fruits of, only the pains. They asked you to endure, to suffer, to be apart from that which you protected."_

Tetrimus slowly nodded at that.

The voice gave a rasping laugh. _"I require no such thing. I only require you to serve… and you will be rewarded."_

There was a period of silence, punctuated only by the quiet whirr of the mechs and the faint sounds of flesh and bone being removed. Then the turian lifted his shattered visage.

"I want the Primarch dead. I want to kill his children and murder his family. And then I want the entire Hierarchy to pay, and pay, and **pay**. If you can…" He trailed off into coughing, trickles of blue blood seeping from his mouth, and grimaced, his battered mandible flicking out. "If you can give me that, I will serve you forever."

The hulking image nodded. _"Then rest and recover, Tetrimus Rakora. When you awake, we will meet in-person. And you will see how I reward my servants."_

 **O-O-O**

The sky was a thousand shades of battered blue, bruised purple, and the red of burning ruin. Tetrimus stared into its depths, one hand on the curved black polymer cane that was his iconic calling card, the other hooked into his belt.

He inhaled deeply, the wind carrying a myriad of scents to his mind. His sharp hearing picked up the scrape of armored boots on steel and he half turned, silhouetted against the sunset.

"You are late."

The smaller turian standing behind him gave a small bow, arms crossed over the chest. "I was delayed, Ginnister. But no matter. Your request is done." The turian pulled out a small steel box, sealed with omni-gel tapes. "Unless there are eggs far off the spoor, the entire line of Rathis lies dead."

Tetrimus nodded slowly, turning all the way around. "After all these years…" He clenched his fist and exhaled, letting the memories spill over him.

The smell of his mate as she leaned over him in the grasses of Thatha. The awe that shook his limbs as he held his twin sons in his arms, each one tiny enough to fit in his hands. The pride that washed over him as the crowds thundered their approval and the Palavanus themselves decorated his cabal.

And then darkness, and he let the memories go. His voice was calm, emotionless. "And Fedorian? Did he interfere?"

The other turian shrugged. "…The Primarch deliberately removed Blackwatch security teams from the Rathis Family compound before my team even got there. I believe he understands the… message you sent."

Tetrimus's laugh was icy. "Very well. Now there is only one last thing to do."

The other turian looked up at him and flicked his mandibles. "I suppose I am a loose end, then?"

Tetrimus's single red cybernetic eye stared for long moments at the younger turian, then he softly tapped his cane once. "You have served me well. For that, unlike the worthless tarks I once served, I can allow myself one instance of… mercy. It is the last I will ever dispense. Do not make me regret it."

The other turian looked up at him, and slowly nodded. "…I came expecting to die, you know. My mate is dead, my children lost in the Relay 314 Incident. This revenge was as much for my own sake as yours, and… what do I do now?"

Tetrimus turned his back on him, staring at the endless expanse of sky once more. "Hate. That is all that remains to me. And this is why I spare you."

There is a long moment of silence before the other turian gave an ugly, pained laugh. "You are more cruel than I thought, Ginnister. I will not see you again in this life. May the spirits have mercy on us both."

The footfalls receded. Tetrimus waited exactly twenty seconds, then taps his omni-tool. "Once he is out of the range of the M/AM flek he was carrying, kill him."

He clicked off and bared his fangs at the sky, the wind whipping his robes around him. "Mercy is killing you, so you do not have to endure."

The sound of a single gunshot echoed across the plaza behind him, then, only silence.


End file.
